I’m not sure what the collective noun for a group of harmoniums might be (or should that be harmonia?), but this blog will take singular appearances by the instrument in some of the repertoire housed in the Naxos group’s catalogues.

I was once asked what had been the seismic developments in the history of the development of music, equivalent to scientific discoveries that had opened up entirely new vistas for society.

This is the period known in many parts of the world as the silly season, the time when news agencies struggle to post engaging headlines of serious news items during the peak holiday period. So, I thought this blog could follow suit by reminding everyone that 20 August each year marks World Mosquito Day.

It caught my eye that the date of this post would coincide with the anniversary of the birth of Percy Bysshe Shelley, one of England’s finest Romantic poets. Born on 4 August 1792, he didn’t live to see his 30th birthday. He was a radical, and not only in his poetry.

A blog on gardens in bloom would normally be appropriate for a readership in only one hemisphere at a time, I thought; but with global warming controlling the hosepipe I’m not so sure. Anyway, encouraged by the beautiful blooms and alluring aromas that currently accompany my morning walks through the park, I decided to clip a few extracts from musical gardens that are to be found in the catalogue.

As a youngster, one knew that the first requirement for playing the piano was to be able to find Middle C. So, I got to wondering if the first requirement for composers was to be able to write a Symphony in C. After all, I thought, Beethoven went on to produce nine symphonies, but his first was indeed cast in that key.

The importance of the date may have flown under your radar, but 24 June marks International Fairy Day. Acknowledging just how integrated these treasured tiny creatures of mythic imagination are in everyday life and centuries-old traditions, there will no doubt be numerous festivals taking place around the world in honour of the wee folk who have inspired so many artistic creations across all disciplines.

In English, the word ‘sinister’ suggests a touch of evil, taking its cue from the Latin, in which it denotes the adjective ‘left’ and a perception that the left hand is weaker than the right. As a left-hander myself, I prefer the view that we’re noted for being more artistic than right-handers! But, as a rather pedestrian pianist, I do humbly marvel at performances of keyboard works specifically written for the left hand alone.

A reference to sighing in music often reflects the emotional state of the person involved rather than the sound of the sigh itself. Song texts might simply encourage people to refrain from sighing, or probe further the possible reasons behind someone’s weary expression. Other works have more eccentric representations and references. This blog presents a cross section of them, which we’ll visit in random order.

I know they’re out there somewhere… people who don’t run a mile when confronted with an arachnid’s bulbous body and hairy projections, stoically putting your average blogger to timorous shame. It would seem that some classical composers weren’t afraid of getting up close and personal with spiders, either, judging from the number of pieces spun in their recognition. What follows is a selection of such pieces.

Not long ago, when I was living in Hong Kong, there was a curious surge of interest among students in playing the ukulele, an instrument that has many cousins around the world in different cultures: banjo, mandolin, lute, balalaika, and so on.

This blog visits a new album scheduled for release on April 14 that features works for piano and orchestra by Sergei Rachmaninov (2023 marks the 150th anniversary of his birth).

When I was a teenager, I would occasionally try and bash through Poulenc’s Thème varié on my long-suffering upright piano. I loved the lilt of the original theme on which the variations are based. Here it is:

Music from Finland brings our short survey of Nordic music over the past few weeks to a close. For most people, the country’s reputation for classical music is probably dominated by the name of Jean Sibelius (1865–1957), so this blog will try and turn the spotlight on works by other composers deserving of air-time.

It’s Norway that comes under the spotlight this week in our Nordic composers survey. Iceland + Sweden and Denmark featured in the first two instalments; Finland will take the finale spot. The seven Norwegian composers in this chapter will be heard in chronological order, with one exception.

The first instalment in our brief survey of music from the Nordic countries – Finland, Iceland, Norway, Denmark, Sweden [FINDS] – featured composers from Iceland and Sweden. This edition showcases music by a selection of Danish composers, whom we’ll introduce in broadly chronological order.

The next few editions of the Naxos blog will offer a smörgåsbord of music from the Nordic countries, presenting examples from Finland, Iceland, Norway, Denmark and Sweden (FINDS, my acronym) that may be unfamiliar yet richly rewarding. This edition showcases composers from Iceland and Sweden.

So, taking a cue from Naxos’ release this month of a new album of Howell’s piano music, I thought my blog could assemble a selection of works by these three characteristically ‘English’ composers – Howells, Sumsion and Finzi – in a sort of musical Friends Reunited.

There can be few pieces to rival the popularity of Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings, be it performed from the ‘original score’ (it was itself an arrangement of an earlier string quartet movement) or in one of the plentiful arrangements of the piece for other forces.

Quite by accident, I came across the fact that November 25, the date of this posting, also marks the 1955 premiere of American composer Walter Piston’s Sixth Symphony. Taking the lead from that touch of serendipity, I thought this edition might give a sketch of the composer and his output. Within my own sphere of experience, his name is better known than his music.

The previous edition of our Naxos blog focused on two symphonies that Brazilian composer Cláudio Santoro (1919–89) composed in the 1950s – the Fourth and Fifth – the latter written to mark the founding of the country’s new capital, Brasilia.

Cláudio Santoro features significantly in the Naxos Music of Brazil series, which is a joint undertaking with Brazil’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs to promote music by Brazilian composers in an extensive series of new albums.

Pater seraphicus is how the 19th-century pianist/organist/teacher/composer César Franck was known to his pupils.

If you’ve already made your will, maybe you’ve also stipulated the music you would like to be played at the assembly for your funeral service.

Labelling Beethoven’s Für Elise a mere trifle might appear insulting to such a household name and piano solo favourite.

Here’s a small selection of works celebrating August, not as an evocative month approaching Autumn, but as a dedicatee (August Bournonville), a composer’s name (August Baeyens, Friedrich August Belcke), a source of literary inspiration (August von Platen-Hallermünde, August Strindberg), and an arranger (August Eberhard Müller).

It’s maybe too convenient to restrict references to war to big anniversary dates, so this blog presents a small selection of musical works that paint the subject of conflict in tuneful reminders of how wearisome and worthless the daily pursuit is.

With so many world events defying logic right now, I thought we might escape briefly into a space where words make no attempt to stack up, but merely divert for a while and lighten the spirit. Welcome to the literary worlds of Lewis Carroll, William Brighty Rands, Hilaire Belloc and someone called Mr Traditional.

While most people tend to seek visions of the future—especially where lottery tickets are concerned—this blog cites four works featuring musical visions from the past.

Although they have their detractors, national and international music competitions continue to stand the test of time.

The oft-adopted adage “pressure makes diamonds” stems from massive pressure and ferocious temperatures combining beneath the Earth’s crust to produce precious stones of enduring value from the single element of carbon: chemistry and physics ultimately give way to craftsmanship and art in achieving the final product.

King Louis XIV of France, the legendary ‘Sun King’ and victim of the awful play on words in the title of this blog, was born in 1638; he ascended to the throne in 1643, four months before his fifth birthday, and died in 1715.

In 1980, I sat in the Kyiv Opera House enjoying a performance of Verdi’s Il trovatore as one of a handful of British music teachers permitted entry into the USSR under an educational exchange scheme.

Living in the northern hemisphere, we’re at that bubbly time of year when I can look out of the window and gorge my eyes on the colourful spectrum of flowers that the month of April brings.

Leading German composer Wolfgang Rihm celebrated his 70th birthday on 13 March.

The American composer George Crumb died on 6 February, aged 92.

Definitions of the word ‘fairy’ as perceived down the ages are wide-ranging, with notions of diminutive enchantresses contrasting with images of grotesque goblins.

One of the items on my bucket list that I’d like to tick off before the great light-switch of life gets flicked is to experience the Northern Lights, also known as the Aurora Borealis.

I live in the city of Canterbury, in the south east of England.

The beginning of a new calendar year also marks the Christian Feast of the Epiphany as embodied in the journey of the Three Wise Men seeking the new-born Jesus, led by a star.

The human voice, Nature’s ‘instrument’, is a flexible piece of equipment. Men singing in the female sex’s natural register or ‘modal voice’ is usually referred to as a counter-tenor, sometimes a male soprano.

Although city centres and shopping complexes have for some weeks been ringing with the sound of musical Christmas jollies, this blog presents the reverse side of the coin, with a small selection of works that reflect a less traditional side of the month of December.

Whatever the instrument, mastery of performance technique is a daunting challenge. But spare a thought for string players who probably suffer at the hands of exploitation more than others.

The nearest I’ve ever got to a gnome is by eyeing its dictionary definition

2021 marks the 150th anniversary of the birth of Alexander Zemlinsky, the Austrian composer, conductor and teacher.

I recently registered with my local library and duly received a plastic card that gives me borrowing rights.

Amid the busy world news scene last month, the announcement of the passing of the Greek composer Mikis Theodorakis on 2 September at the age of 96 escaped my attention.

I’ve always found it intriguing how a quality composition is seemingly indestructible when it’s pressed into new clothes by skilled arrangers.

If there’s a man for all seasons, is there a music for all days? The answer seems to be ‘yes’, so off we go.

It might seem improbable that something as solid and stolid as a mountain could be inspirational to composers.

Western composers uniformly embraced the system of tonality for some two centuries, until it found itself challenged by a radical alternative system called atonality around the year 1900.

We reach the final instalment of our alphabetical collection of composers whose music has been somewhat neglected as the years have rolled by, with this blog casting a spotlight on Galina Ustvolskaya, Francesco Maria Veracini, Peter von Winter, Iannis Xenakis, Isang Yun and Joaquim Zamacóis.

Continuing our alphabetical spotlighting of less well-known composers and their works, this week’s blog visits Italy, Poland and Guatemala and presents music from the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries.

Karłowicz, Lipiński, Magnard, Nepomuceno, Ohzawa. These are the composers who give us our next alphabetical tranche of unfamiliar names and neglected outputs that deserve a more frequent airing.

This is the second instalment in our alphabetical sifting through composers whose profiles are sadly more obscure than their quality compositions often deserve.

This is the start of a 5-part series highlighting the distinctly engaging music of less well-known composers.

Places of Christian worship the world over will be marking the Easter Story at this time, no doubt with many performances of sacred music that vividly portray the central scenes of Jesus’ execution on the cross, his entombment, and his subsequent resurrection.

A fanfare is a flourish of trumpets or other similar instruments, used for military or ceremonial purposes, or music that conveys this impression.

Do you recall hearing a particularly affecting piece of music for the first time, maybe as a younger newcomer to the world of classical music?

There are as many interpretations of pieces of classical music as there are pairs of ears – that’s inner ears for conductors, and physical ears for audiences.

Picking up from our last blog that featured musicians who died a century ago, in the year 1921, we consider a selection of singers, instrumentalists and composers who were born in that year.

Following the 2020 global Beethoven birthday bash, I’m going to run the risk of anniversary fatigue by dwelling on what comes in its wake: 2021 and a collection of milestones marking the centenaries of either the births or deaths of a number of composers and artists.

One Christmas carol that has always been on my list of favourites is the Cherry Tree Carol.